Send Me

Описание: TL;DR
Here I am

This song came out of a moment where I realized the call to act doesn’t always arrive wrapped in certainty or strength. Sometimes it shows up quietly, in the ruins—when everything familiar has already burned down. I didn’t hear it as thunder or glory. I heard it as a whisper, calling my name while I stood surrounded by the consequences of inaction, by the cries I’d learned to tune out, by the weight of staying comfortable while others paid the cost.

When I wrote these lyrics, I wasn’t feeling holy or brave. I was counting my failures, naming my flaws, listing every reason I shouldn’t be chosen. I felt unclean, unworthy—like a cracked vessel with more leaks than answers. But the silence didn’t let me hide. It stayed. It burned. It asked me to look down at my shaking hands and decide whether I would step forward anyway.

This song isn’t about heroism or spiritual triumph. It’s about responsibility. About finally stopping the habit of saying “someone ought to help” and realizing that “someone” might be me. It’s about answering the question not because I’m ready, but because the cost of turning away feels heavier than the fear of going.

When I say “send me,” it isn’t a boast. It’s a surrender. I don’t come with righteousness, peace, or rest—just breath, bone, doubt, and a willingness to stand in the fire if that’s what love requires. If there’s any hope in this song, it’s not that I’m worthy—but that I’m here.

Here I am.
Send me.